Chapter 8
Alia POV
I stepped out of the Ritz Hotel’s revolving glass doors, my heart racing like I’d just run a marathon. The sunlight was blinding, and I squinted instinctively, scanning my surroundings, terrified that someone might have spotted me having lunch with Marco.
How ridiculous, Aria Rossi. You’re actually feeling guilty for eating with your own husband, like a kid who stole candy. If I’d known he was the CEO of Cortez Tech, would I have married him so easily?
The thought struck me out of nowhere. I shook my head, trying to push it away, but it clung to me like gum on the sole of a shoe–sticky, annoying, impossible to shake off.
Back at the office, I hadn’t even made it to my desk when Berti Mella, my department head, stopped me. Her usually stern face broke into a rare smile. Aria, starting today, you’ll be taking on the role of executive assistant to the CEO while continuing to handle projects in the business department. Congratulations!”
I managed a quick “Thank you” with a nod. At noon, the HR department head sent an internal company email appointing me as the CEO’s secretary. Although Marco had mentioned this to me last night, I still felt it was unreal.
My colleagues‘ stares hit me like spotlights–some envious, some surprised, and a few barely hiding their jealousy.
“Hey, don’t mind the looks. Everyone knows you’ve got the skills. You’ve got this!” Tina patted my shoulder, her voice full of encouragement.
I smiled at her gratefully, even though my heart was already in turmoil.
Antonio sauntered over, grinning wide. “Congrats, Aria, our new big–shot secretary! Don’t forget us little guys now, okay?”
His tone was so casual, like he was chatting about a weekend picnic, that I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. CoAntonio, who’d dare call you a little guy?”
The afternoon meeting was the main event–a discussion on the Phantom Game bidding project. This was a game development initiative under Red Scorpion Group, with a total investment of ten million dollars.
I’d spent too much time at lunch, and now I was worried I hadn’t double–checked the bidding documents thoroughly enough. As the project team lead, I had to be on top of my game. I couldn’t let Marco–cr, I mean, Mr. Vittorio–think I wasn’t up to the task.
Sitting in the conference room, I organized my files while taking deep breaths, trying to calm the inexplicable nerves bubbling inside me.
Five minutes before the meeting started, Marco walked in.
he was dressed in a deep navy tailored suit, his posture straight as a pine tree, his demeanor cold yet elegant, as if he were born to be the center of attention. Those sharp eyes swept across the room, landing on me without a flicker of emotion. I was seated next to him, as expected of the CEO’s assistant, but my heartbeat betrayed me, quickening uncontrollably. His strictly professional attitude eased my tension a little–at least he wouldn’t show any personal feelings in this setting.
“Let’s begin,” Marco said, his voice deep and commanding, like a gavel striking the table. Everyone sat up straighter, the air itself seeming to
thicken with tension.
I cleared my throat and started presenting the details of the Phantom Game project. From market analysis to budget allocation to potential risks, 1 kept my pace steady, every figure etched into my memory. Toward the end, I snuck a glance at Marco and caught him staring at me, his gaze so intense it felt like it could pull me in. I quickly looked away, focusing on the PowerPoint until I finished the last word. The room erupted in applause.
“Good work” Marco commented briefly, his tone devoid of much emotion, but I caught the fleeting hint of a smile at the comer of his mouth. I returned a petite, professional smile, though inside, it felt like a pebble had been tossed into a still pond, sending ripples through me. Don’t
verthink it, Aria. It’s just professional recognition, nothing more,
After the meeting, everyone filed out. I was hugging a thick stack of project documents, head down as I tidied the table, completely unaware that Antonio had approached.
He suddenly stung an arm around my shoulder, saying with a grin, Great job! How about I treat you to a drink tonight to celebrate?” His sudden
Chapter 8
enthusiasm caught me off guard, and I was just about to decl
Antonio froze for a second, then, along with the other lingerin
when a low voice cut in sharply. “Miss Rossi, stay behind.”
colleagues, tactfully exited
the
conference room.
Soon, it was just the two of us.
I turned around to see Marco standing there, his expression dark, a shadow of displeasure in his eyes that sent a chill down my spine.
“Right now, I’m just Marco, your husband,” he said, his voice low but carrying an undeniable weight.
T
ter
frowned, deliberately stepping back to create some distance. “Mr. Vittorio, it’s still office hours.” I knew saying this might annoy him, but some boundaries had to be drawn, especially at work.
His brows knitted tighter, and in a few strides, he closed the gap between us, his tone laced with warning. As your husband, I won’t allow anyone else to touch you so casually–not at any time, not in any place!” His gaze was sharp as a blade, piercing straight into me.
I raised an eyebrow, countering with a deliberately light tone. “Not even women?” The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. His face darkened instantly, and the next second, he pinned me against the conference table, his hands braced on either side of me, trapping me in his presence. “Disobedient woman,” he leaned in close to my ear, his voice low, dangerous, and laced with flirtation. “I don’t mind teaching you a little lesson.”
My face flushed crimson in an instant, my heart pounding like a drum, my breath quickening. His warm breath brushed against my ear, an electric jolt through my entire body.
sending
I pushed him away hurriedly, fumbling to grab the documents on the table, and practically fled the room. “S–sorry, Mr. Vittorio, I’ve got things to take care of!” Throwing out the excuse, I bolted without looking back, not daring to catch a glimpse of his expression.”
In the hallway, my steps slowed, and I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat. God, Aria, you nearly back there, didn’t you?
got yourself devoured
Meanwhile, back in the conference room, Marco watched my frantic escape, his eyes narrowing slightly. He turned to Luca Ferrari, who stood nearby, and asked coldly, “Are all women like this?”
O
Luca shrugged, unfazed. “Boss, some women—the more they run, the more they want you to chase.”
Marco didn’t respond, his fingers lightly tapping the table as he stared at the doorway, lost in thought.
Luca added with a smirk, “But our lady here? I think she’s genuinely shy.”
